


In the Eye of the Beholder

by writtenthroughtime



Series: WTT's Posts for ImagineClaireandJamie [28]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Claire didn't go back AU, F/M, One Shot, Set during the time Jamie lives in the Cave, Young Bree Grows up at Lallybroch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:20:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: Prompt: Using a mirror, Bree paints a picture of her and William together and they give it to Jamie for his birthday. Jamie is so touched he tells them a dream he had in the cave of the two of them playing together.





	

Bree’s head was bent over the tattered parchment, charcoal stick in hand, and her tongue poked out the corner of her mouth with concentration. The picture coming to life with each line and smudge.

_“That’s it, a leannan.”_ What she believed to be her Grannie’s voice floated through her mind, urging her forward with each stroke.

Bree smiled, her heart beating faster as a sense of excitement and urgency overcame her. The strokes became haphazard and sloppy, but the images became more defined despite the mess.

A curl here, a shaded smudge there until the scrap of paper was filled from edge to edge. Once the likeness of herself was complete, Bree tossed the small mirror to the side and focused on the blanket covered figure next. She compared and used her own features to help create the face of an unseen baby.

“Mama!” Bree yelled, not taking her eyes off her task.

Claire waddled into the great room where her daughter lay next to the fireplace, Bran and Luke asleep beside her. “What is it, my love?” she asked, placing a hand on her swollen belly.

At this, Bree looked up to her mother. “Where are Grannie Ellen’s paints? Auntie Jenny said I may use them if I like.”

“I don’t know where they are. Have you asked your Auntie?”

Bree shook her head and frowned. “I dinna ken where she is to ask, but I knew you were nearby. Da doesna let you out to so much as pull a weed!” The small girl giggled at her mother’s glare.

“Think you’re so funny, do you? Well I’ll see if Mrs. Crook knows where they are. What are you going to paint?”

At this, Bree excitedly jumped up, thrusting the drawing overhead so that her mother could see.

“I’m going to use paint to accent this!” Claire took the drawing from the little girl vibrating with joy. “It’s for Da! So that he can have both of us with him.” Bree’s eyebrows furrowed. “Although, I dinna ken if I have a baby brother or sister. And I dinna ken what they look like, so I made the baby look like me! Once they’re born, I’ll paint Da a new one!”

Claire took in the messy drawing; to her it was squiggles on the page, but to her daughter, it was a masterpiece. Reaching out to tuck a stray ruddy curl from Bree’s face, Claire smiled then cupped her cheek. “Your Da will love this.”

“You really think so?” Bree’s voice was no more than a whisper.

“I know so.”

Two hours, a broken wooden leg, three screaming children, and an exasperated set of adults later, Bree had her Grannie’s paints and set to work on filling in color.

Twirling the brush, she added bright blue eyes to herself and the baby, followed by a bright mix of orange, yellow and red hair for herself and a more subdued orange and brown for the baby.

It was finished.

It was incredible in her eyes. It had just the right amount of color to balance out the deep black of the charcoal.

Carefully, Bree laid the still wet parchment on the hearth before laying down to watch the flames flicker.

She awoke to the sound of heavy boots thudding against the steps. The daylight had gone, the fire stoked to a roar in front of her, and beside her lay the drawing which had begun to curl about the edges.

“Sassenach?” The deep rumble of her father’s voice filled the hall.

Her body was filled to the brim with excitement as she dashed out of the room, drawing clutched protectively at her chest.

“DA!” she squealed. Jamie turned and lifted her into his arms eliciting giggles from her.

“Hello my wee one,” he said, pulling her head to his chest.

Bree breathed in deep the scent of the forest, mud and her Da. “I made you something.”

“Och! Ye did?” He smiled brightly. “Is it behind your nose? Or maybe under your chin?” Jamie leaned in and kissed and rubbed his beard on his daughter’s skin causing her to giggle and squeal stop, but he couldn’t dream of stopping that beautiful giggle.

“It’s right here!” Still breathless from laughing, Bree pulled the painting into view.

Jamie’s eyes went wide as he sat down, Bree perched on his knee. “You made this?”

She nodded enthusiastically, messy curls bobbing. “It’s me and the new baby,” she told him.

“Aye, I see that. Ye are the one here with the long curly red hair and the bright blue eyes. And this one,” he pointed to the blob of lines and paint, “must be your new sibling. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I’ve been practicing! Once Mama has the new baby I’ll paint another one with how they really look.” Bree beamed.

“Thank you, mo chridhe. I will keep this with me always.”

“I thought you’d like to put it in your hiding cave. That way you have both of us with you all the time instead of just when you come back to the house in the middle of the night,” Bree whispered.

Jamie’s eyes stung with unshed tears. He pulled his daughter tight to him. “You’re always with me, mo nighean ruaidh. I dream of ye and the unborn ween everyday. I canna wait to see and have you both so close to me in sleep that I have to see ye while I dream.”

“Really?” she asked, eyes wide.

“Aye. Everyday is different, but it’s always the same when it comes to who’s there.”

“Oh! Can I guess?”

Jamie laughed and nodded. “Go ahead, ye already ken two of the people.”

“Ye dream of me and the baby, Mama, Auntie Jenny, Uncle Ian, and all the people at Lallybroch!” She began to giggle as Jamie tickled her sides.

“Aye, ye named most of them. I do dream of yer Mama always, and of my godfather.”

Bree wrinkled her nose. “Why would you dream of stinky, grumpy Uncle Murtagh? He’s in the cave with you!”

Jamie heard stifled laughs that echoed his own. Claire, his sister, brother-in-law, and ‘stinky’ uncle all stood a few paces away.

“I dream of him, and all of you, because I love you.”


End file.
